


feverish

by moonlights0nata



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sick fic (ish), just an excuse for spectre to take care of ryoken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlights0nata/pseuds/moonlights0nata
Summary: Ryoken sighed, cheeks pink from the fever, and perhaps something else. “I know.” He held Spectre’s hand to the side of his neck a moment longer, and Spectre felt the light trum of his pulse. “I am safest when you have my back.”--Ryoken has a fever and Spectre dutifully takes care of him.Written for day 2 of #SlashRyoken in twitter!





	feverish

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S STILL BEFORE 12 AM HERE SO STILL DAY 2 FOR ME AKLSSJD
> 
> With SpecRyo today, I really liked writing this? Wasn't gonna get smutty at first but then it kinda happened naturaly so, have this mostly fluffy and a little smutty thing !

Spectre’s eyes were used to following Ryoken around and observe. He had pocketed one too many of the man’s gestures and habits, saving them and locking them in a corner of his mind to pay attention to or recall later; be it the way his eyes narrowed, sharp, calculating, the way his fingers curled around his third cup of coffee for the day or the delicate, faint but sudden intake of breath when he found the answer to something he had been musing about all day.

He followed the straight line of his spine as he stood tall and walked with poise or the hunch of his shoulders when he was sitting, relaxed, or the tense curve of his back when something was stressing him.

There were many little things Spectre took note off over the years. Almost no detail went unobserved and he cherished every new thing he discovered like a precious treasure. Because everything that was Ryoken was golden to him and he didn’t want to miss any of it.

Which was why when he heard Ryoken not typing on his laptop with the usual rhythm Spectre had become so attuned with, he started to suspect something was off. At first glance, Ryoken seemed the same. But the more the day stretched, the more Spectre began to see his composure starting to slip, the more there was a wobble to his step, if imperceptible to anyone else.

“Ryoken-sama, are you alright?” He asked, at last, when he caught Ryoken rubbing his eyes insistently, pinching the skin between them.

“Fine.” The reply was a mumble. “I must be tired, is all.”

“May I suggest a break, then?” Spectre rose from his chair to stand behind Ryoken’s. He rose a hand to rest on the back of Ryoken’s neck and was surprised to find the skin was hot under his palm. Ryoken failed to fight back a shiver, shuffling away from his touch.

“Perhaps--” He began to stand but Spectre saw the moment his knees buckled. He surged forwards in time for Ryoken to fall back against him with a heavy exhale.

“Ryoken-sama.” Spectre lifted his hand again and pressed it to Ryoken’s forehead. Instead of pushing away, this time he felt Ryoken lean against his cool touch. “You have a fever.”

“I’ve worked with a fever before.” Was the weak protest, and Spectre shook his head.

“There is no need to push yourself like this. Allow me to take care of you today. I am certain the other Knights can handle themselves on their own.” And it wasn’t like they had much left to do, right now. The Ignis, save for the Dark one who was missing, were all gone. All they had to do was keep an eye on the network and SOL technologies recent activities. Kyoko, Aso and Genome were more than capable of handling that task on their own.

“Spending your day looking after me sounds terribly dull. You could go--”

“No, no, Ryoken-sama.” Spectre maneuvered so he had an arm around Ryoken’s back to keep him steady as he lead him to the bedroom. “I relish every chance I get to serve you.” His smile was not without a small hint of mischief. “Even at your most vulnerable.”

Ryoken eyed him with a rare humorous grin of his own. “Am I in danger right now, Spectre?”

“Not in the least.” Spectre sat him on the edge of the bed, hovering over him for a moment with a softening gaze. His cold fingers brushed down Ryoken’s cheek, trailing a path across the dip of his neck. “You know I would never cause you harm.”

Ryoken sighed, cheeks pink from the fever, and perhaps something else. “I know.” He held Spectre’s hand to the side of his neck a moment longer, and Spectre felt the light trum of his pulse. “I am safest when you have my back.”

Hearing those words rose a fluttery feeling in Spectre’s chest every time. Words reserved only to themselves, like this, to the moments Ryoken allowed himself to put the walls down and allow Spectre to peer inside. Spectre had long since taken peeks behind them, learning to read Ryoken like a book he’d re-read forwards and back many times. Spectre could have had every chance to dig a knife in Ryoken’s back with the trust the other man deposited in him but instead he used that knife to defend him.

Or rather, he did not need a knife to begin with. Spectre would protect Ryoken with his bare hands if need be.

After a moment, Spectre gently ushered Ryoken under the covers.

“Rest. I will see if we have medicine and food around and bring them to you.”

He only got a quiet grunt of affirmation as Ryoken lifted the blanket up to his nose, eyes already closed. He would be out like a light in seconds, Spectre guessed, and silently retreated from the bedroom to skim around the mansion. Luckily there was medicine for the fever in the bathroom cabinet, so that was accounted for.

He stopped by the kitchen to see if there was anything he could use to cook a light meal. Ryoken didn’t cook, but Kyoko did, and she had given Spectre pointers every now and then. A glance over into the fridge revealed there were still leftover ingredients from the last time she came over, so he had things to work with.

It was a little early but the sooner Ryoken could have his medicine, the better, so Spectre set down to work. Cooking wasn’t exactly his area of expertise, but even he could follow a simple recipe for soup from the internet and produce something edible with the vegetables he had on hand.

When he opened the fridge to get something he’d missed, his eyes lighted in recognition when he spotted something else. Kyoko must have bought them and left them there for Ryoken to find eventually, and Spectre snorted as he picked up one of the small jelly cups.

A faint fond memory rose to his mind, when he and Ryoken were younger and they would have these sitting while watching Stardust Road. Even as a child, by the time Spectre had met him, there had been a shadow crossing Ryoken’s face, his remorse over his father having been taken away.

But when he talked about the phenomenon that caused Stardust Road to light up that way, his own eyes seemed to brighten for a moment, and Spectre kept asking questions about it until the shadow left his expression. He talked about stars, too, of constellations up in the sky above them and Spectre never got tired of listening.

They hadn’t had much of a childhood, both of them, but it was little moments like that that remained in his mind and that Spectre treasured.

When he was done making the soup, he put it, a glass of water, the jelly cups and the medicine all in one tray and brought it with him back to the bedroom. Ryoken had been dozing off but the click of the door seemed to be enough to wake him up. He propped himself up on his forearms as he sat up slowly, pulling the blanket with him, shivering from the cold in spite of his slightly flushed face.

“It would seem Kyoko-san left us a treat.” Spectre sat on the edge of the bed, placing the tray on Ryoken’s lap. His eyes, bleary and a little glassy, seemed to lighten at the sight of the jelly cups. He snorted, picking up the green one--green apple flavor-- first and eyeing it curiously. He offered it to Spectre after a moment.

“You liked this one, didn’t you?”

“You remember.” Spectre accepted it gratefully, picking one of the little spoons he’d put in the tray as well.

“Of course. We used to eat them all the time.” Ryoken grabbed the spoon for the soup before taking a tentative first sip of it. He hummed, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. “Watching Stardust Road.”

“Yes.” He tapped the little spoon against the edge of the jelly cup, glancing at Ryoken as he ate. He knew his look was bordering on another kind of adoration now, something more than admiration and reverence. “I rather enjoyed the way you told me about the stars, too.”

“Hm. I thought I bored you with that. I know you only kept asking to get my mind off things” He lifted his gaze, eyes knowing but not accusatory. It was something softer. “You have been looking after me for a long time.”

Spectre shook his head. “While It’s true that was my intention at the time, I liked to listen as well. You sounded happy talking about it.” He smiled. “I could never grow tired of listening to you, Ryoken-sama.”

Ryoken blinked, and the flush in his cheeks became more prominent. “Oh.” He glanced down at his food, tapping the spoon to his lips. Spectre’s eyes followed the movement. “...Thank you, Spectre.”

He slightly bowed his head. “It is nothing, Ryoken-sama.”

There’s a momentary, comfortable quiet while Ryoken finished eating his soup, putting it aside in favor of grabbing his jelly cup. It was a purplish color, grape in flavor. Ryoken seemed to relax against the headboard after taking the first bite, humming in contentment. There was that little glimmer to his eyes, nostalgia maybe, or simply fondness. It’s a look Spectre committed to memory, before peeling the lid off of his cup and digging into his own treat.

Once they were done eating, Spectre handed Ryoken his medicine and the glass of water for him to drink. He arranged everything in the tray to take away as Ryoken got back under the covers.

“I’ll be just outside if you need anything.” He was just turning away when he heard Ryoken mumble out his name. He tilted his head back. “Yes?”

“...No.” It was hard to see Ryoken’s face from under the covers, pulled up to his nose again, but he saw him shake his head and turn on his side. “It’s nothing.”

Spectre wondered what he was going to say, but if Ryoken wanted to, he would eventually speak up about it. With that Spectre exited the room and headed for the kitchen to wash everything up. He had a few hours to kill while Ryoken rested and they waited for the medicine to have effect.

He spent those hours letting the Knights know Ryoken would be resting for a few days (“Yes, Kyoko-san, he’s fine, it’s just a fever, I am taking care of it”), having some proper dinner of his own and lounging on the couch with a book propped on his lap. When he saw enough time had passed, he went back to check on Ryoken.

He was still sleeping when he came into the room, but Spectre noted the covers had been tossed a little aside in his sleep and that his forehead was drenched with sweat. his fever must have gone down. He made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve a bowl of cold water and then got a towel from the bathroom before coming back. He put the bowl on the bed side table and doused the towel in water, squishing the excess and slowly pressed it to Ryoken’s forehead. The sudden cold seemed to wake him up, blue eyes blinking open dazedly.

“...Spectre?” His voice came out hoarse right after waking up.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Ryoken-sama. I did not mean to wake you.” He brushed the towel over the other’s forehead and found him sighing in relief now instead. “Though you should change into drier clothes.”

“Do I have to?” Ryoken was by far not someone who  _whined_ , but he seemed very reluctant to sit up to do something as simple as grab a pair of new clothes from the wardrobe. Spectre chuckled, setting the towel down and standing.

“No. That is what I’m here for.” He felt Ryoken’s eyes on him as he retrieved a set of pajamas from the wardrobe and came back, placing them on the bed. Ryoken sat up slowly and effectively, his shirt seemed to stick to him from the sweat. Spectre grabbed the hem of it, giving Ryoken a questioning look. “May I?”

Ryoken nodded, lifting his arms and allowing Spectre to peel the shirt off. He undid the button of his pants and shimmied out of them, Spectre sliding them off the rest of the way and putting both items of clothing away to put on the way later.  Ryoken shivered as his skin was left exposed and Spectre took a moment to take him him.

Ryoken had always been skinny, a little on the bony side here and there, even when he didn’t do much to stay that way. His lack of exercise showed in his thin arms and the little soft (squishy) parts of his belly, not toned in the least. His legs were long and devoid of body hair, ending in delicate ankles. He might not be a perfectly built man but the sight of his bare, flushed skin was still a delight to Spectre’s eyes. He knew this sight was a privilege, for his gaze only.

“My eyes are up here, Spectre.” Their eyes met again and Spectre saw both the amusement and the light embarrassment on his face. Spectre wasn’t the least ashamed of his staring, smiling easily.

“I apologize. I got distracted.” He reached back for the towel, lifting it up. “May I wash you? It’ll be uncomfortable to put on clothes with dried sweat all over you.”

“I could do it--”

“Nonsense.” The pads of Spectre’s fingers settled under Ryoken’s chin. “Allow me to do this for you. It does not bother me in the least.”

Ryoken let out a small breath. He shuffled to sit on the edge of the bed. “...You may.”

Spectre dipped the towel in water before kneeling in front of Ryoken, lifting one of his legs before running the towel over his calf. He took his time, passing the towel over the front before moving to the other leg. He reveled in the way Ryoken’s fingers curled slightly over the covers when Spectre’s hand washed over his inner thighs, sending a light tremor through his body.

He doused the towel into water again before bringing it to Ryoken’s chest next. Ryoken flinched for a moment at the coldness this time before relaxing. Spectre ran the towel over the curve of his shoulders, his collarbones, reveling in the way Ryoken’s breath hitched as he washed lower over his chest and brushed over a nipple accidentally.

Why would doing this ever be a bother when he could get such a good look at Ryoken?

Spectre gestured for Ryoken to move further into the bed before sitting cross legged against the headboard, Ryoken’s back to him. He trailed a path with the towel from the back of his neck, over his shoulder blades, then carefully down over every vertebrae protruding on his spine. Ryoken relaxed under his touch, letting out a content hum low in his throat that spurred something in Spectre on.

He leaned forwards, his breath ghosting over the nape of Ryoken’s neck before pressing his lips to his skin. Ryoken eased back into him and Spectre spread his legs open to allow him to sit against his chest while he shifted to lean against the headboard. The hand with the towel went around him to rub down his abdomen and his stomach and Spectre felt the way the muscles tensed there as he trailed languid kisses over his neck and behind his ear.

“Is this okay, Ryoken-sama?” He asked hushedly and got a nod in reply. He slipped his free hand over his front, fingers trailing the slightly humid skin, poking the soft bits of his belly and hearing barely stifled laughter behind Ryoken’s hand. He grinned against the skin of Ryoken’s neck. “Ah, you were ticklish here.”

“ _Spectre._ ” There’s a weak warning edge to his tone, quickly lost to another huff of a laugh as Spectre lightly prodded his side. “‘Oy--”

“I apologize.” Spectre muffled a laugh of his own on Ryoken’s shoulder, palm setting on his stomach. “Ryoken-sama’s laugh is just too endearing.”

When he rose his head a little he could see the tips of Ryoken’s ears were red. Oh, Spectre was enjoying this a little too much, wasn’t he? But how could he stop when Ryoken’s reactions were each so wonderful? He just wanted to see more, as far as Ryoken would allow.

Despite his embarrassment Ryoken seemed all too comfortable nestled against his chest and he soon relaxed again as Spectre’s hand caressed his abdomen in slow circles. The towel had been long forgotten and he ran his other hand over his collarbone, down his chest. Ryoken’s skin had cooled thanks to the towel but it warmed back up with every touch.

Spectre brushed over his nipple again and Ryoken shuddered. He rolled his thumb over it more firmly and got a small gasp in return.

“Spectre…”

He tucked his head on Ryoken’s shoulder, glancing down his flushed chest and down to his lap. Through his boxers he could see a tent forming already and it made Spectre’s lips curl up, pleased. The hand that had been on his abdomen trailed lower, fingers dipped just so under the elastic of his underwear.

“Yes, Ryoken-sama?” He kissed the side of his face, as much as he could reach like this. “Ah, I should wash you down here as well, shouldn’t I? May I ask you to lift your hips?”

Ryoken did and Spectre lowered his boxers up to his knees, Ryoken taking care of chucking them aside. He enjoyed the way Ryoken squirmed a little when he pressed the forgotten, still cool towel to his groin, not yet touching the area that most attention demanded. His other hand spread his thighs apart, stroking up and down, and his lips pressed to the juncture between his shoulder and neck, sucking on the skin and earning him a needy little noise.

But he was not one to deny Ryoken for long, so he let the cloth rest on Ryoken’s tight and trailed his fingers over the length of Ryoken’s erection. It had Ryoken’s hips stuttering back against the bulge in his own pants. Spectre groaned.

“Ryoken-sama…”

"Spectre." He tilted himself half way, hand grasping the front of Spectre's shirt. His eyes were clouded, his face flushed and it was not because of a rising fever. His breath ghosted over his lips. "Touch me."

Spectre did not have to be told twice. He finally grasped Ryoken’s erection and set a steady stroking pace. Ryoken threw his head back against his shoulder with a low moan when he ran a thumb over the head of his cock, and Spectre’s tongue latched to the curve of Ryoken’s neck, licking its way up, feeling Ryoken’s quickening pulse against his lips, hearing his breath stutter.

“S--pectre--Ah--” Ryoken’s hand found purchase on one of Spectre’s legs settled to either side of him, fingers curling over his knee. He involuntary kept thrusting his hips back against Spectre’s groin and Spectre rutted himself against him, chasing his own release. He wouldn’t last long, not with Ryoken so pliant and open in his arms, with his voice cracking over with need and calling his name like that.

“You’re so perfect, Ryoken-sama.” He cooed lovingly, his other hand stroking over his chest, feeling it twitch with every gasp. “So perfect.”

Ryoken tilted his head, and their noses bumped by the abrupt action before their lips mashed messily together. Spectre stroked him more firmly, from his balls to the tip, lingering there and smearing precum over his head. Ryoken let out a low keen noise against his mouth and Spectre knew he would store that sound in his mind for later.

“Close.” He rasped, his grip tight on Spectre’s pant leg. Spectre would not follow far behind if Ryoken kept pushing his hips against him like that.

“You look so beautiful like this, Ryoken-sama.” He held him closer to him with an arm around his waist, whispering sweet words aganst his lips.”I adore you so much.”

Ryoken’s eyes fluttered shut and his mouth fell open in a throaty moan, body trembling as he came over Spectre’s hand. Spectre stroked him through it, his other hand moving to palm his own erection to finish himself off in one, two final strokes, coming with a shuddery breath and Ryoken’s name on his lips.

They took a moment to breathe and compose themselves. Ryoken slumped boneless against him, breath hot on his neck and skin once more a little sweaty. Once he recovered his breath, Spectre set to finish what he had initially started and properly washed Ryoken’s sweat and then the drying fluid on his stomach.

“Well…” Ryoken muttered, and Spectre could feel the smile on his voice even with his face buried in his shoulder. “That is one way to deal with a fever, I suppose.”

Spectre chuckled and was pleased when he heard Ryoken’s short, faint laughter as well.

“Allow me to dress you before you get cold.” Ryoken merely hummed in affirmation, clearly too tired to argue or move. Spectre retrieved the boxers at the foot of the bed and slid them back up Ryoken’s legs, doing the same with the fresh pajama pants. He slipped the shirt one arm at a time with care, smoothing it over his shoulders and doing the buttons up without hurry.

When he was buttoning the last one, Ryoken’s hands lightly touched his cheeks. When he glanced up he was met with a soft and tired half lidded look. Another one he would save in his memory.

“You take such good care of me, Spectre.” He mumbled. “Thank you.” He kissed the corner of his mouth. “May I have one more selfish request, despite everything you have done for me?”

“Of course.” Spectre would argue Ryoken didn’t make enough selfish requests off of him. “Anything for you.”

“Stay with me while I rest?” There was a short pause, Ryoken’s mind catching up with something and glancing down at Spectre’s front, seeing the new wet spot on the front of his pants. “And after you have cleaned yourself up. That looks uncomfortable.”

“It is.” Spectre pressed a kiss to Ryoken’s drooping eyelids. “Lay down. I will be with you shortly.”

He laid Ryoken down on the bed, pulling the covers over him, before retreating to the bathroom. He used the chance to drop Ryoken’s earlier, dirty clothes in the washing bin, his pants soon joining the pile. He cleaned himself up, though he kept his boxers on for now. He would finish washing up properly later, but for now he had more important things to attend to.

He padded back in the room, thinking Ryoken would already be asleep, but he was eyeing him with barely open eyes from under the blankets. It was frankly...adorable. Spectre’s chest warmed and he walked around the bed before laying down behind Ryoken, throwing his arms around his waist.

“Sleep, Ryoken-sama. I’ll be here.”

Ryoken mumbled something unintelligible back, possibly his name or actually nothing at all, and tucked himself comfortably against Spectre’s chest. He was sound asleep in a matter of seconds and Spectre allowed himself to relax against him.

He would have to wake him up in a couple hours more to eat and have some more medicine but for now, Spectre contented himself with observing the man beside him and storing his serene, sleeping face in another pocket of his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also at
> 
> moonlights0nata on tumblr  
> @moons0nata (main) and @pocketwriting (wips/ideas) on twitter


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